


Sharing is caring and making plans

by Little_Firestar84



Category: The Mentalist
Genre: Episode Tag, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-04
Updated: 2014-12-04
Packaged: 2018-02-28 04:01:17
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,654
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2718059
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Little_Firestar84/pseuds/Little_Firestar84
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Post 7.01 Nothing But Blue Skies- Jane and Lisbon, an evening at home, thinking about the future, what has been and what it could be. Rated M for sexytimes</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sharing is caring and making plans

**Author's Note:**

> My contribution to the tags out there for our last season premiere. Steamy, but not too dirty, nor smutty.

When she reached home, Teresa was grateful that Jane –because he was still Jane for her -wasn’t there yet; not that she didn’t want his company, as she had missedhim, despite having worked the case side by side.She had missed thedreamy, sweet, attentive, romantic ,and sometimes silly, man she had shared her time with in the last 14 days. 

And somehow, she knew that that man wouldn’t be with her that night, not in spirit at least. She knew that she had told that she understood him and shared his vision on their relationship, but she was also well aware of how his mind worked after so long at his side. Marcus’ selfish words, she realized sighing, had broken him. Her ex had wanted for the consultant to see the light, he wanted for Jane to let it go of her so that _they_ could have their happily ever after. But life wasn’t going to be like that. For once, now that she had tasted Jane- in ever meaning of the word- there was no way she would be going to back, as he had ruined her for every other man.And besides, she owed it to herself, to try to have the relationship she had only dreamt about for so many years. 

And then… then, there was the whole thing with Teresa Lisbon being Saint mother Teresa who had to save everyone…. And frankly, after that heart-felt confession, how could she not want to save him, and have the man all for herself? No other woman in her sane mind would have refused him, she thought smiling, and she was no exception. 

And now… now she had to save him again, this time from himself. She knew that Jane didn’t believe a word he had said, that he had listened only to Marcus; right now her love, her _lover,_ needed both her and space. He was going to need room for his thoughts, to understand what he wanted and how he wanted to provide it tothemselves, but she would have been just there, at arm’s reach, because she had understood a long time before that Patrick Jane’s mind could be a scary and lonely place- especially for Patrick Jane himself.

Going out was out of the question, as she suspected he wouldn’t feel like it, and extravagant or greasy food was probably not an option either. 

_ A cup of tea then,  _ she decided, shrugging. _A hug in a cup, that’s what he’ll need._ Because she wasn’t an idiot. Not that Jane thought that; he was simply a master at deflecting attention, like any good magician, and they both knew that she would have seen the hurt and the pain inflicted by Marcus no matter what; the car ride had been an easy distraction, one she had been grateful too, but… but he needed more than a car ride to be better. To understand. He needed to relax and think things through, see them for what they were- that they were in the same boat, both plane-less. 

When, a good fifteen minutes later, he finally entered in her place, her heart skipped a beat and she blushed, flash tears burning her eyes; Jane had opened the door with _his_ key, the one _she_ had shared with him, and walked the place not like he owned it, but like he _belonged;_ it wasn’t a matter of being at easy, but… she didn’t know, it was hard to explain. She just guessed that, for the first time since she was a child, even if she had already lived there before her almost-move…. She felt at home, like she belonged there. 

_ With Jane. Not her place, but theirs.  _

“Ehy.”He simply said, lifting her chin with his right index. It was the same gesture he had done when he had first kissed her, but whereas that time it was filled with sensuality, this time there was fear and doubt in him, and the knowledge that…

No, she shook herself. Not the knowledge of not being enough. _The fear._ Because no matter what Marcus or anyone could say: Jane wasn’t offering _only_ himself, he was giving her _all_ of himself, fears, doubts, regrets, secrets andsmiles and silliness all rolled up into a nice package; day after day, he showed her a little bit more of himself, ever morning, for few, precious minutes, and every night for few hours, whatever they made love or just cuddled, he was just Patrick Jane, no con-man, fake psychic or consultant. Just… Jane, no mask whatsoever. 

She shook her head. There was no room for her thoughts now. She knew how Jane was feeling, and she did have a plan right now- stopping his mind from taking a wrong turn and go into that dark place he had always enjoyed so much, so she forced herself to smile- because his presence there did make her happy- and going on tip-toes she kissed his chin. 

“I, uhm, started the bath. Thought you could relax a little. You know, warm water, low lights, bath salts…”she paused, chuckling a little as she ended the sentence. “I even prepared a cup of tea.” He kissed her nose, smiling and breathing through his mouth as he inhaled her scent, trying to look as happy as possible; for once, he didn’t care that Teresa kept starting the bath for him, nor that she pretended to use for him, _a man,_ bath salts. He had more pressing issues at hand, and if he wanted to get a grip on himself, relaxing could help. 

And he had a pretty good idea of how doing it.A way that would have made Teresa relax too, with the added bonus that she would have been “branded”, if only in her memories. 

“All right, I’ll get going. Ehy.” He said, way too cheerful for his own good as he indicated the bathroom upstairs. “You know what’ Do you mind bringing the tea in the tub? I need to soak a little bit…”

She eyed him suspiciously, but nodded and said something in the line of “all right”, and reached him few minutes later, with the cup in her hands; Jane was smiling like a cat that got the canary, hands behind his head and crossed ankles on the other end of the tub, his whole body covered with suds. 

She sighed, rolling her eyes. What was wrong with her, thinking it was hot that he would be smelling like her for a few hours? There was nothing, nothing at all, sexy in a man smelling like violets. Besides, how much of her bubble bath did he use?

“Is there any good reason why you put all my Eleonora Duse in the tub?” she asked, groaning, the cup on the sink, her arms now crossed in front of her. He knew that she liked that fragrance. He knew how expensive it was. And he knew how hard it was to find. And yet he had emptied the whole bottle in the tub, the idiot!

“Meh, I just changed my mind. I realized that a cup of tea wouldn’t do the trick. I need something more… _strong…”_ he rolled the word on the tip of his tongues, sensually, slowly, his eyes burning in her owns. “…to feel better.”

She pretended to be annoyed, but there was no mistaking the small smile that was gracing her lips as she took off her clothes right before him, like she didn’t care about her own appearance or it was now a daily occurrence, and then, thanks to an helping hand offered to her like he wasa gentleman from another time, she joined him in the tub, her back against his chest. 

“Hi, I missed you today.” He simply said kissing her neck, his warm, big arms encircling her waist. She knew what he meant, as she had felt the same way; they had been together on the case, but there, at the FBI, they could be only Agent Lisbon and Mr. Jane, there was little to no room for Patrick (Jane, actually) and Teresa. 

She purred at closed eyes, feeling his hardness against her lower back. “Mmm… I can feel it.” She laughed, and he did the same, the most perfect sound in the whole universe, one she couldn’t have enough of it. Just like his smile. 

Making him smile. And laugh. And sigh in pleasure as he got lost in her. _That_ was her plan for now, and it was more than enough for her, no matter what people said or assumed.

He laughed again, nuzzling her dark hair, and she could feel his breath on her skin as he did so, his warm hands fighting to erase the goose bumps from her arms. “Well, it looks like the loss of your bubble bath was worth it.”

“My _very expensive and rare_ bubble bath, you mean.” She grunted in a very un-lady like manner, turning her head side-ways so that he could see her features . “I think this calls for some kind of punishment.” Her voice was low, her eyes dark, her pupils dilated and Jane knew that the reddish hue of her cheeks had nothing to do with warm water and everything with desire, lust and want. 

He didn’t hesitated a second, and attacked her lips with his own with the fury of a starving man, and the need of possession- the wrongfulness and yet rightfulness of it all, the same feeling he had battled with since he had told her he loved her two weeks before, the same feelings that had come back with a passion when Marcus had showed up again at the office. 

But right now there was no room for that. It wasn’t even about branded Teresa as his own. It was just the here and now- just like he had told her before. _That_ was his plan for her, for them: living every day at her side, living things day by day, enjoying every moment and spending every minute making her happy and forcing a smile out of those wonderful lips that could give him such a pleasure. 

“Jane….” She sighed between kisses, as she felt his lips descending on her neck, biting the juncture of neck and shoulder, her hands grasping his harness, feeling the silky perfection of his steel, his whole being trembling at her mere presence, at the smallest touch of her naked skin against his own. 

Still with her back against his chest, she guided him to her wet, ready, pulsating core, slowly, their breathing the only noise in the room; he closed his eyes as she finally, _finally,_ guided himself in her, his head thrown back and his lips open in a perfect o; Jane opened his legs a little bit to help Teresa to accommodate more, and she cuddled against him, her head on his shoulder as he kept his hands on her hips. She closed her eyes enjoying the sensations, purring and sighing, while Jane instead changed the angle of his head, focusing his eyes on Teresa’s willing sex accepting his hard member in her. 

Accepting _him_ in her life. 

And that was all he wanted out of life. Not the sex- even if it was a very good added bonus – but being close to her, being in her life. And maybe, one day, sooner or later… a family. Not if she or he wanted it, but if _they_ wanted it. Because the hell with Pike. That man had always been wrong with – and for –Teresa. She didn’t need someone who offered her plans or gave them to her on a silver platter; she needed to be a willingly participant, and that was what being in a romantic, long-term relationship meant. 

(After all, hadn’t she asked him to stop trying to control her life? And that was what Marcus had tried to do, with the job and the new home and the proposal.)

He tightened his grip on her waist, and she sighed, “Patrick”, his name like a prayer coming from her lips; like a humble servant, he obeyed her silent order, and started to thrust in her, guiding her on his throbbing erection with his hands on her hips, the movements in sync like any other time they’ve joined their bodies in the oldest profession of love known to men.

With each and every thrust, he could feel that Teresa was already close, right from the very first push, her sex clenching his own, and he was well aware that once his Teresa would have had her orgasm, he would have followed her over the edge; he wasn’t such a man to think that performances and size were everything, but he had enjoyed giving her as much pleasure as he could in the last couple of weeks, counting how many times he could make her come in a single session his new (and permanent) favorite past-time. But today, he knew that they weren’t going to have any of it, and strangely he didn’t care as well. It was all about the here and now, and remembering- to the both of them, but mostly himself- that they were _there._ Together. _Finally_. 

She came in silence, a scream of pleasure dying in her throat as she gripped his hands in her owns, the only sound she emitted a sob because every time she joined with him it was just…. Overwhelming, too much and just never enough, like every time it was the first time, and the realization that yes, it was real, it was finally, _finally,_ happening.

As her clenching core welcomed and engulfed his manhood, Jane once again threw his head back, and stopped- to think, to feel, everything. There was just the here and now, and Teresa’s warm and welcoming body all around him; he sat, splashing water on the floor and on the carpets, and grunted, biting the skin of her shoulder, his grip on her waist so strong his knuckles were turning white. She came again for the sensation of his teeth scratching and tearing her skin, the knowledge that he was marking her body, branding her as his own, and in that instant he came too, no signal whatsoever, empting himself in her, his seed hitting her womb as a promise of something impossible right now- and yet to come. 

Afterwards, they stayed in cooling water like that, her head on his chest, his hands at the sides of the tub, his head threw back and stretched out of the top; after a while, he grimaced, not because of the cold water, but because of a fleeting thought. “Uhm. Sorry. I’m not normally that… you know, quick.” He eyes fell on the mess on the pavements and the carpets, water and bubbles everywhere _but_ the tub. “And, sorry for the mess too. I’ll clean up.” _When I’ll feel like leaving this small portion of paradise,_ he mentally added up, but didn’t say out loud; his hands were skimming again the tender skin of her arms, his fingertips dancing on her body, small and yet burning and electric touches that brought their bodies back to live once again, re-awakening the throbbing desire in their groins. 

“Well, you know me already, Jane…” She purred as she kissed his chin, and then stood up in the tub, in all her naked and wet glory, all green shining eyes and dark glossy hair and white skin, like a glowing and alluring apparition.“ _I am_ a messy woman.”

She giggled and run in her bedroom, Jane hot on her heels, and then they both fell on the bed in a messy tangle of arms and legs and heated kisses andsighs and moans of pleasure and sweet declaration of love that meant the world to the both of them.

As a plan, it was more than enough for now. 

 

 


End file.
